The Second (The Immortal Prophecies: Book I)

VI. Lincoln

"Why the hell can't you go after her then? She is your partner! Not to mention the closest thing I have to a sister. Are you considerate at all?" She asked for God knows how many times already. Maybe that dramatic reply to the 'what if' question was a mistake--her chatterbox hadn't quit moving since I answered her. Really close to pulling my hair out--or pulling off a sock to shove in her mouth--I sighed in the middle of my run turned marathon and faced her.

"Listen, I would go if I could, but I can't," I repeated, with a lack of saliva, "Why--before you ask for the hundredth time--because I don't have a clue of where she can be. There are chances that she could come back, too, I told you, so the best we can do now is to wait and see." Even if waiting was starting to get to me. I haven't been this nervous since high school, or plain scared.

Bonnie stood motionless after my flare-up, her face falling, probably thinking the worst based on the circumstances. "What about the chance where she doesn't? What then?" She asked, her voice sounding anything but reassured. I ran a hand through my hair, feeling it shake over the spherical mold, sweat accumulating on my forehead, my ability to unable to answer the question with much oomf in full force.

"We're going to find her, trust me. We have a few tricks up out sleeves to help, anyway." She nodded in agreement, though her thoughts were opposing and filled with dripping doubt. How could I blame her? The possibility was growing smaller for every minute she remained in the past, and spending years in order to find her was uncertain, based on the infinite amount of places and periods she could be in. I'd be the first idiot to lose his partner in all of our history--that ought to straighten my life's track record for sure.

But I'm spite of it, I continued my search throughout the building, still hoping she would plop back in any second, with a ballistic brunette trailing behind me. How I have waited for this day.

"Lincoln!" someone yelled, "Lincoln, that--uh, I mean--Guenevere's back!" Alex called out again, sprinting out of the hallway we just turned by. My tensed shoulders fell at the news, an involuntary breath escaping. Acting as if I hadn't been panicking for the last twenty--could be thirty now--minutes, I turned to Gwen's friend and smiled smugly, as a hilarious and quiet way of saying 'I told you so', rubbing it in without a care in the world.

I would've added a nice 'ha!', too, but enough time was wasted pacing around like aimless wound up toys, and I didn't want to anger the face that already looked intent on chewing my throat off. "Lead the way," she ordered my cousin.

With a brow defiently raised, he signaled for us to follow him, leading us to the hall which contained Ms. Salgados' secret room. "I see you've finally learned something from me, Linc," Alex commented, turning to Bonnie, suppressing a laugh, "Never thought you'd be that quick, though."

"If you want to keep your teeth, I suggest you shut that mouth of yours," she warned, causing Alex to change his humorous face to a frightened one. It reminded me of another confrontation I would have to face sooner or later, too. With a quick horrified glance back at her, he turned away in time for me to open the door with more force than I originally intended. Like a rampaging army, we intruded into the studio where a frowning Ms. Salgados scolded us with her silent disapproval.

And behind her, my partner.

Her head snapped up like a quick whip, wide eyes like a deer's caught in the headlights. 'Hey, you're back,' or 'Thank God,' could've been phrases that I should've said. Should've. But instead my mouth stayed wide open from unsaid words, turning into awe when I let my eyes wander in distraction at what she had on. Cream and dark green patterns weaved around the majority of her body, the dress generously hugging what I saw as a fair figure.